


KING OF GAINS

by toffeecape



Series: Bird Rock Lambchop (Bird Bigger Bird) [9]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Adoption, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Male Character, Body Modification, Body Worship, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Facials, Foster Care, Gay Male Character, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Muscles, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Strength Kink, Wall Sex, weightlifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 09:25:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16172276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toffeecape/pseuds/toffeecape
Summary: Yugi takes an interest in strength training. Atem takes an interest intrying not to have a stroke.





	KING OF GAINS

**Author's Note:**

> All of this silliness is Celepom’s fault. I was fine imagining Atem as the fitter of the two, and then she brought Twunk Yugi to my attention:
> 
>   1. How he is apparently [a Thing in future canon](http://relatablepicturesofyuugi.tumblr.com/post/178457134960/is-it-fucking-yugi-im-going-to-have-a-stroke),
>   2. How much Atem would be Affected by Yugi being able to [pick him up and carry him](http://celepom.tumblr.com/post/178300886622/yugi-got-jacked-in-his-20s-so-he-could-lift-his) around with ease,
>   3. How [devastating](http://celepom.tumblr.com/post/178390838717/king-of-gains-wet-edition-atem-is-going-to-have-a) Yugi would be if he was half as jacked on the outside as he is sweet on the inside.
> 

> 
> Enjoy!

Atem has always been the buff one, and Yugi is totally fine with that. Even back when he lived in Yugi’s body, he was body-smart in a way that Yugi just isn’t: faster, stronger, more agile in Yugi’s body than Yugi himself. At the time, Yugi wondered whether it was more of a talent, or a skillset his other self didn’t remember learning but still retained, like how to read hieroglyphics.

As it turns out, when he rolls up with a body of his own and a complete set of memories, it’s mostly the latter. Atem comes from a life more physically-demanding than Yugi’s: not just riding horses and swordfighting and wearing a thousand pounds of gold jewelry 24/7, but also a slew of sports and stunts that a Prince (and then young Pharaoh) of his day was expected to be proficient in. Part of settling in in Domino is Tristan helping him find some kind of crazy gym where he keeps up these abilities and adds more.

Atem can walk on his hands. Atem can do a standing backflip. Atem can pole-vault and climb an unknotted rope and put his feet behind his head, and his physique shows it. Yugi finds him so blisteringly sexy that he’s twenty before he regains the staying power he had at sixteen.

He would feel self-conscious about being a shrimp noodle, but Atem doesn’t let him. He makes it _very clear_ how attracted to Yugi he is. It’s amazing how hard it is to feel down on his body when he’s using it almost daily to have sex with the person he loves.

That’s not to say Atem being a Specimen has _no_ effect on Yugi’s habits. It’s out of a desire to stay in shape for Atem’s benefit that Yugi makes a point of going for a laid-back jog every other day, and plays in a community baseball league (though once he bonds with his team his competitiveness cements the habit on its own), and maybe cuts back on the burgers and fries a little when he realizes he doesn’t burn them off as fast as he did in his teens.

So Atem works hard on his body, and Yugi doesn’t work very hard on his. They’re both happy with their bodies, and happy with each other’s bodies. It’s all good.

And then they’re 28, and Yugi is doing prep work for a wish Atem expressed idly ages ago: to use their Good Times Chains to suspend him in midair.

Easily 90% of what Yugi knows about home renovation, he’s learned for sex reasons: either enabling something new, or doing repairs because something new went sideways. Or just strategically-timed for Atem to ogle him getting grubby in jeans and a toolbelt, because historically that often works out well for Yugi...

 _Any_ way, Yugi took one look at pure suspension bondage and noped the fuck out of there. If you ask him, it’s less something for couples to do in private and more a kind of incredibly advanced and dangerous performance art. That goes double for someone who gets as spacey as Atem, totally unable to report lost circulation or pinched nerves or anything like that. Nope, nope, nope.

A sex _swing,_ on the other hand, looks very promising: same weightlessness, more support - it’s actually _recommended_ for people with certain physical disabilities. Yugi’s even figured out how he can use their existing chains to hang the hammock part. He’s located a ceiling beam in their bedroom, installed an eye bolt that he can disguise with some kind of hanging art piece, and rigged up the whole thing. It looks pretty good empty; now he needs to test it bearing weight.

Atem is in the study, puzzling over a translation project that’s _just_ at the boundary of too recent for him to comprehend the dialect. He’d probably like a break, but how cool would it be if that break was a surprise opportunity to test-drive this thing for real? Yugi decides to figure out an independent testing solution. That’s his first mistake.

His second mistake is not just testing it with, you know, _his own weight._ Instead, for some reason, his mind turns to the ridiculous 20kg bags of rice and flour Mom and Grandpa keep buying ‘on sale’ and dropping off at their house (where are they even _finding_ them? Yugi’s never seen a sack of either bigger than 10kg in his life). Five such bags would be double Atem’s weight, the kind of stress test his engineer coworkers would approve of.

He huffs and staggers getting each bag from the basement to the bedroom, and is perhaps not very precise with his placement as he heaves them into the sling (his third mistake). But he gets it done, and steps back with a feeling of accomplishment to survey how the apparatus takes the load.

“Not bad, not bad,” he says to himself. He’ll need to adjust the height a bit; it sags less than he thought it would, so it’s well above - uh, waist-level. Also, the guide he used was probably assuming an average height greater than 5’2”. He gives it a little shove and sets it swinging, another to make it spin. He thinks he should try yanking on it repeatedly, and stops the spin with a quick grab - and watches in horror as the top bag in the heap starts to slide in horror-movie slow motion for the edge of the swing, and beyond that, the floor.

It’s a flour bag. If it hits the floor after a fall from that height, it’ll explode and there’ll be flour _everywhere._ Yugi acts on instinct and leaps up into the swing, grabbing the edges of the bag just in time. His horror turns to triumph, then to chagrin when he realizes he’s not strong enough to pull up the bag in this position, nor can he reposition himself without dislodging more bags.

There’s nothing for it. At the top of his lungs, he hollers, “ATEM! HEELLP!”

There’s the crash of a falling chair, and pounding footsteps, and then Atem bursts into the bedroom shouting, “What is it, Yugi? What’s wrong?”

“I’m stuck,” Yugi says miserably, perched atop four sacks of flour and rice, dangling half-in and half-out of the swing which is spinning and bouncing crazily, holding onto the flour-bomb with all his might. “Catch this for me?”

Atem presses his lips firmly together and nods, eyes sparkling. He takes ahold of the bag (which stops the spinning and bouncing, thank God), and, taking its weight as Yugi lets go, sets it down. Yugi starts to climb out himself and Atem steadies the swing. “What were you _doing?”_

“Stress testing,” Yugi says as they unload the remaining bags “On the bright side, I’ve verified that this bad boy can take _three_ times your weight, so hooray for that.”

“On the brighter side,” says Atem, “that was the funniest thing I’ve seen in _ages!”_ Crisis over, he starts to giggle. “Your _face,_ and - the way your legs were sticking out - !” he snorts, and dissolves into full-blown belly laughter. He throws himself onto the bed, clutching his sides.

Yugi laughs too, eventually jumping onto the bed as well to tickle Atem just to hear him laugh some more, and maybe they’ll never be able to use the swing with a straight face now, but maybe that’s just fine.

Still, that’s the moment when he decides he wants to get a bit stronger.

* * *

Not that he tells _Mokuba_ that story when he goes to meet him at the gym a couple of days later. The guy may be twenty-five years old and a towering slab of beef, but he’ll never not be a kid to Yugi. “I just want to be able to lift more. Maybe my own body weight?”

Mokuba nods. “And you want to train with me and Tristan?” They’ve been gym bros for years; Tristan is just past them doing bicep curls, listening in on their conversation with interest.

“Yeah. I mean, you guys are the experts.” Last year, Mokuba foiled an abduction attempt by hitting two men with another man - like, literally picked him up and swung him like a baseball bat. The whole thing was caught on video, made the news, and created a YouTube sensation. KaibaCorp’s stock apparently shot up as well.

Tristan racks his dumbbell and ambles over. “With a straightforward goal like that, I’m thinking a real simple lifting program, just a few moves.” He glances at Mokuba and they nod at each other, then he looks Yugi up and down, assessing without pity or judgement. He’s been doing this stuff since _they_ were kids (turned onto it by some guys he and Joey used to box with, apparently) and a good thing too, what with the number of comatose people they’d needed to haul long distances. Yugi’s glad he turned to his friend before consulting a stranger. “Pretty quick you won’t even need a spotter and you can do the routine by yourself, just check in with us every week or two.”

“I don’t know about that. I’m starting from nothing.”

“Which is exactly why you’re gonna have novice gains like _whoa!”_ says Mokuba. “I’m jealous, honestly.” He takes the plates off a metal bar. “We’ll start with just the bar, okay? Watch me.” He bends down with his back straight, grabs the bar, stands up, and then without raising the bar any further he bends down again and puts it back. “That’s called a deadlift. Now you try.”

“Okay, seems simple enough...” But the bar is heavier than the flour sack that almost bombed his bedroom. Yugi manages to lurch his way to a wobbly stand, then all but drops it putting it down.

“Dude,” sighs Tristan, “am I ever glad you asked for help.”

“Seriously. You looked like a tiny version of Seto just now.”

“Hey! Yugi’s _way_ healthier than Mr. ‘Tabata ‘til you puke and then work for 36 hours straight’.”

Yugi winces. He doesn’t know what Tabata is, but being compared to Kaiba’s habits, even favorably, is probably not a good sign.

“It’s cool, Yugi,” says Tristan. “You’ll pick up the forms as fast as you pick up everything else. We just gotta start with something lighter, like… a broomstick.”

* * *

That night, Yugi flops onto the couch and makes a noise like a dying seal.

“What’s brought you so low?” Atem asks.

“A broomstick.”

“Were you _beaten_ with it?”

“No. Tristan and Mokuba just made me pick it up a few different ways. A million times each way.” He has muscle pain in places he didn’t even know he had _muscles._

“And why did they make you do that?”

“I want to learn to lift heavy. Or I did. Now I want to forget the idea ever crossed my mind.”

Atem sits down on the floor, near enough to Yugi’s head to stroke his hair, then rub the back of his neck. Yugi grunts in appreciation.

“If you’re sufficiently resolved that you’ve involved your friends,” Atem tells him, “I have no doubt that you will persist until you succeed.”

Yugi wallows in self-pity that night and shuffles around like an old man the next day, but sure enough, two days later he’s back in that gym.

He’s lifting the real bar by the following week.

* * *

Atem’s body has been through many changes: vaporized by a spell, forgotten into a cloud of malevolent smoke by five thousand years inside the Millennium Puzzle, replaced by a projected copy of Yugi’s body, and finally restored by Osiris. He thinks one reason he went out and got a half-dozen new piercings (four ear, two nipple) in his early twenties was to sort of lay claim to this final form of his - that this is his body now and for the rest of his life, and so he shall decorate it how he pleases.

Yugi’s body - his dear, sweet, willowy form - has been a constant since Atem was first freed from the Puzzle. Atem has never been able to think objectively about it, never permitted himself to acknowledge that in Atem’s time Yugi would have been considered worrisomely frail, like someone only recently having escaped a famine or long illness. The shape of Yugi is the shape of his love, and Atem counts himself wealthy beyond measure to get to see and touch him every day and every night, and that truly is the end of it.

He never considered how it might affect him if Yugi deliberately undertook to modify his body somehow. He is startled at how… distracting it is.

It first becomes noticeable in his arms, which have always looked quite nice, really, Yugi’s body fat low enough that what muscle he has is well-defined. But with this new weight-training program, that definition increases dramatically as his muscles swell.

“Aw yeah, beginner gains!” Yugi laughs, flexing in the mirror. “I can see why people fall into the trap of skipping leg day and end up all weird and top-heavy; arms are really rewarding.”

“They are,” Atem agrees, squeezing his upper arm and feeling the new firmness there - not bulky, but definitely more solid than before. He feels strangely shaky and hot inside, in a way that feels out of place with both of them fully-clothed. “But I’ll ask you not to skip leg day.” He imagines Yugi’s thighs increasing in a similar fashion, and the feeling intensifies.

Yugi chuckles. “Don’t worry, Tristan and Mokuba won’t let me get away with anything of the sort.”

“Nor me.” Atem turns his squeeze into more of a caress. “You know that I find you very handsome at all times,” he begins, and then stops, unsure how to proceed with delicacy.

“I’m hearing a ‘but’ in there.”

“But, I… _approve_ of this new venture. I like to see you thriving. Does that make sense?”

Yugi raises an eyebrow. “Babe. It’s me. You know, the guy with a literal, verified _fetish_ for seeing _you_ thriving? It makes perfect sense.”

Atem blushes. “Fair point.”

“Of course, on my end, it’s all about knowing _I’m_ doing it to you, taking care of you.” Yugi turns away from the mirror to face Atem directly, and those newly-robust arms that have so captured Atem’s attention steal around his waist. They squeeze him with a little more strength than he is used to, and Atem is suddenly, breathlessly hard. “Let me take care of you, other me?”

Atem’s face gets even hotter, and he nods. Yugi backs him up against the wall and kisses him. Atem loves Yugi’s kisses: quick and playful, soft and gentle, or, as now, deep and drugging, making his head spin and stoking the fire inside him. He squeezes Yugi’s upper arms again, and unexpectedly moans into his mouth. Yugi’s lips smile against his, and Atem slips his tongue past them, sweeping the inside of Yugi’s mouth before being captured and sucked on, and this time Atem’s groan feels like it comes from somewhere deeper than his chest.

Yugi smiles again. “Yeah? You want me to suck on something else maybe?” He nips at Atem’s earlobe - careful of his earrings - and nuzzles his neck, drops his voice low and says, _“I_ really want to do that. I want your cock in my mouth.” He brings his hands up and under Atem’s shirt to play with his nipples, and the piercings through them. “Can I, Atem? Can I suck you? I wanna hear you say it.”

“Yes,” Atem grinds out, “yes, please, suck me.”

Yugi grins at him and bends down to lick and suck at his nipples while he opens Atem’s pants and shoves them down. His cock springs free and Yugi strokes it - affectionate familiarity that always makes Atem’s breath catch. Given permission, Yugi is as free with Atem’s body as he is with his own.

He drops to his knees and Atem bites his lip, fisting one hand against his hip and sliding the other into Yugi’s hair. He may not have a full-blown fetish, but he is far from unmoved by the way Yugi appears to serve him yet has Atem fully enthralled. It pulls at his oldest understandings of power and protocol and who he was meant to be, in a confused tangle he prefers not to attempt to unravel, choosing instead to just enjoy it.

It’s debatable who enjoys this more, actually. Atem is the one being pleasured, but Yugi makes more noise, humming as he licks and slurps and sucks, his voice only cut off when he takes Atem’s cock to the back of his throat. And he’s not shy about moving Atem around, kneading his buttocks, gripping his hips to tug him against his face. When Atem gets with the program and starts to rock into Yugi’s mouth, Yugi slides a finger into the pocket of his cheek and then reaches around and presses it into Atem’s hole.

Atem sways, rhythm broken, and thumps his head back against the wall. “Ahh!” Yugi takes his cock deep and makes Atem take his finger deep at the same time, and Atem’s thighs start to shake. His knees wobble - and Yugi wraps his free arm around them and braces Atem upright with a strength he’s never had before. Atem’s hips snap and his orgasm takes him by surprise, coming in long spurts down Yugi’s throat.

Yugi lets him go, licking his lips, looking up at Atem with hooded eyes. “So, is it just me, or did you finish a little faster after I grabbed you like that?”

Atem thumps his head back again and nods, his hand over his eyes. He opens his eyes again when he hears a zipper and some unmistakable soft slapping.

“Good to, mmh, know my work is appreci-ATED!” Yugi’s voice builds to a yelp as Atem crashes down in front of him and takes over from Yugi’s hand on his cock. He can feel why Yugi couldn’t wait: he’s desperately hard, hot and thick in Atem’s hand like he could come at any moment - and in the next moment he does, falling back and catching his weight on his hands. Atem watches his arms bulge and his mouth positively _waters._

* * *

Winter comes early that year, and is unusually long and brutal. Even wearing lots of layers, they run up a hefty heating bill. It is not conducive to naked frolicking out in the open, and _highly_ conducive to huddling together under every blanket they own. Huddling leads to cuddling, leads to caresses, leads to lovemaking with its own unique flavour of eroticism - nearly blind in the dim lamplight or the dark, sealed in a humid little chamber of blankets. In the absence of meaningful sight, touch is heightened.

So it is that the next change Atem notices in Yugi’s body isn’t by sight, but by feel. Yugi has him folded nearly in half, fucking him deep and slow with Atem pinned beneath him. His clutching hands slide down the small of Yugi’s back, unable to get a grip on anything, until he seizes onto his asscheeks. He jolts in surprise when he realizes Yugi’s buttocks feel - different. Rounder, firmer, larger. Gods know he’s been put in this position enough times to be sure of the dimensions of what he’s holding onto, and these dimensions have _definitely_ altered.

Yugi looks down at him, smiling crookedly. His face is red and beaded with sweat, his bangs sticking in strings to his forehead. “Took you - uh! - long enough to - ha - notice, other me.”

Atem kneads the muscles in his hands, feeling them bunch and flex, helping to push Yugi into Atem’s body with steady, overwhelming force, over and over until he feels like he might boil over. He pictures what they must look like, Yugi’s back rippling and his newly-round ass working, with Atem’s brown legs splayed around him and his fingers digging in, and his lazily-mounting arousal abruptly becomes more urgent. His balls draw up and his limbs tighten around Yugi, and the timbre of his moans pitches higher.

Yugi bends down to bite gently at Atem’s ear and says, “All those squats are - mm - starting to pay off. ‘Cause now - I can do - _this.”_ And somehow he increases the force of his thrusts even more as he speeds up his hips, and Atem’s vision whites out as he comes.

He also realizes, as they lie together in a panting heap, that Yugi is getting heavier. He has to work harder than usual to lift Yugi as he breathes.

Yugi realizes it, too. “Sorry, I’ll-" he starts to shift off him, but Atem traps him in place.

“It’s okay,” he wheezes.  He’s always felt, irrationally, that Yugi is somehow smaller than him, and so he finds this increased heft comforting. And they both know how much he enjoys Yugi holding him down. “I - I like it.”

“You would,” Yugi teases.

* * *

Yugi gets a text from Joey just as he’s wrapping up at work:

**You jogging tonight?**

**ya, y?**

**Want some company?**

**sure!**

“Isn’t this your boxing night, though?” Yugi asks half an hour later, as Joey falls into step beside him and they make their way out of the heart of downtown.

“Too mad to box,” Joey bites out.  

“Ah.” This is something Yugi needed a long time to learn about his best friend: that while he enjoys a spirited brawl, he doesn’t trust himself to remain in control if he’s truly enraged. It’s unspoken but understood that this is one way he makes himself different from his father.

(Atem says Yugi was the last of their friends to know this because he makes everyone around him better; that _he_ learned this when they were seventeen and Atem lost Yugi’s soul to the Orichalcos. Yugi thinks he’s just not very observant sometimes.)

They warm up and then set a quick pace for the first twenty minutes, the thudding of their feet and huffing of their breath the only sound as they move onto parkland trails. Yugi’s gotten faster as he’s gotten stronger - and he’s also gotten hooked on pushing himself a bit more than he used to, relishing the burn in his muscles and the math-y satisfaction of finishing his route just a _little_ faster than last time. Somehow, after years as a jogger, he's become a runner.

Mid-stride, Joey says in a rush, “One of my clients had a breakthrough today.” Yugi slows them down to a pace they can maintain while talking.

“We talked about why she’d rather feel all kinds of fucked-up than just feel like herself. We talked about who made her that way.”

This isn’t the first time they’ve done this. “That’s a hard thing to hear.” Yugi doesn’t think he could do Joey’s job.

“I don’t get these people, Yuge, I really don’t. They’re supposed to take care of a kid, and they go and do the exact opposite instead. I mean, lately…” Joey rolls his shoulders and takes a deep breath, then says, “lately I been thinkin’ I could do a better job _myself.”_

Yugi stares, stumbles, and barely rights himself. “Joey?”

“I been thinkin’ about fostering,” Joey babbles, “There ain’t enough homes in Japan by a long shot, tons of kids still rotting in glorified orphanages. Serenity’s not goin’ anywhere, and from what we’ve talked about I think she’d be up for it, but I haven’t worked up the nerve to ask her yet.”

“I think you should ask her, if you’re sure that’s something you want to do.”

“Yeah? You don’t think it’s too weird? A single guy raising kids with his sister instead of - somebody he’s partners with?”

“Oi! Mom and Grandpa did just fine with me! You’d be a _great_ dad, Joey.”

“Thanks, Yugi.” They run in silence until they come to a steep hill. “What! We shouldn’t be hitting this for another ten minutes!”

“Guess we’re getting faster.” Their breath plumes in front of their faces; winter hasn’t quite let go yet, and the temperature drops fast in the evenings.

“I guess so.” Joey looks at him and raises an eyebrow. “Wanna race?”

Yugi bounces on the balls of his feet. “You’re on!”

Joey wins, but it’s exciting to be able to give him enough of a run for his money that he needs to lie down after doing a little victory dance. “Holy shit! You’ve really gotten stronger!”

“Thanks!” Yugi already had an inkling from his baseball league, but as he learns to really push his body he’s discovering he likes competing in all kinds of contexts, not just games.

Joey flaps a hand. “Pull me up.” Yugi obliges, and Joey yanks him into a hug once he’s on his feet, clapping him on the back. “I think I really needed to hear what you said back there. Thanks, man.”

“Anytime, Joey.” They go their separate ways from there, and Yugi’s head is so full of their conversation he barely remembers the trip home. He tells Atem about it over dinner.

“I find it extraordinary,” Atem comments, “that so many people survive to adulthood nowadays, and yet they are all so separated that orphans frequently have no one to take them in.”

“Maybe survival being easier is part of how we get so disconnected,” Yugi muses. “But it’s not just orphans. More often kids in care were being - mistreated. I guess a lot of times, in those situations, the whole family is broken enough there’s nowhere _safe_ for the kids to go.”

Atem looks down, his face troubled. “I suppose that’s not a new problem - just a new way of dealing with it.”

The question forms in Yugi’s mind then, acquiring color and shape until it feels like a third person sitting at the table. Finally he can’t hold it in any more. “Do you want kids?”

Atem startles. “I - I don’t know,” he says, “I put it out of my mind when I realized I would probably never be able to make them with a woman.”

“Well,” Yugi says carefully, “as we’ve just been discussing, there are other ways to become a parent.”

Atem nods slowly. “It’s… an extraordinary thought.” He frowns and admits, “I don’t think I could tolerate the indefinite nature of the fostering Joey intends to do; I would want adoption or nothing. And perhaps not _immediately,_ but - I think, in a few years, I can see myself being ready. I - I would like to do that, yes.” He looks at Yugi. “Provided _you_ want to?”

Yugi flattens his hands on the table. The question has only fully occurred to him tonight, but now that he examines himself directly, he’s surprised at how strongly he feels about it. “With you? Yeah,” he breathes, “I really, really do.” He looks at Atem, and sees his own excitement in Atem’s eyes. “I wanna be a dad with you, Atem.”

Atem rises at the same time Yugi does, their dinner forgotten. Yugi wraps him up in a hug. “Gonna make a family with you,” he says into Atem’s hair, and Atem laughs unsteadily and clasps him tighter.

“I want to meet them,” Atem says, “the children of your mind, of your heart. They will be wonderful.”

“They’ll be yours too,” Yugi chokes, “they’ll be _ours.”_

Atem sighs out a shaky breath. “I find I want you very much, very suddenly.”

“Yeah. _Yeah.”_ Yugi kisses him then. It feels like holding a firework in his arms, Atem lighting up and skittering his touch all over Yugi as if he isn’t sure what he wants to do most. Finally Yugi decides for him, hoisting him up and urging Atem’s legs to wrap around his waist. He should feel heavy, especially after tonight’s hard run, but Yugi finds his legs are holding firm, holding Atem where he wants him.

The position makes them grind together, feel how hard they are against each other in their pants, and Atem moans into his mouth, then finally breaks away. “Ah-ah! Please, I want you inside me,” he gasps, and Yugi can’t not do as he asks. He carries him toward the bedroom, and Atem’s arms and legs tighten around him as he realizes Yugi isn’t putting him down. “Yugi!”

“Ta-da!” Yugi’s pretty proud that it worked. He can’t bench this much yet, but Atem is more cooperative than a barbell and plates. And more inspiring: arching against Yugi’s belly and muttering incoherent horny nonsense in his deep voice, between kisses and during them, as Yugi strips him and lays him down and works him open. He bites his lip and presses his own dick hard into the bed to calm himself at the way Atem clings and shivers and lets him in, as impatient to have Yugi inside him as Yugi is to be there.

By the time Atem’s ready Yugi is almost beside himself. It’s agony to let go long enough to shove his own pants down and slick his cock, and when he seizes hold of Atem again he lifts him up in a fit of wild need. He pins him against the wall at the head of the bed and slides into Atem’s ass, taking his weight on his thighs and then pushing him up as he thrusts deeper.

Atem howls, there’s no other word for it. He clutches Yugi’s shoulders, stroking his back with his calves, and all but sobs as Yugi starts to pound into him, a heavy, fast pace commanded by the desperation of their need. Atem embraces him with equal force, arching up and grinding down in time, head thrown back, Adam’s apple bobbing as Yugi pushes moans and cries from his throat.

“Atem,” Yugi says raggedly. All his usual dirty talk, teasing and urgent both, has deserted him, and he feels as naked as Atem. “I love you, Atem, I love you so- much- I-” he licks and bites at Atem’s neck, works a hand up to tilt his head and another down to jerk his cock, pushing harder to keep lifting him with his legs. “Kiss me. Kiss me,” he pleads, and Atem seals their mouths together and slides his tongue clumsily against Yugi’s and groans as he comes, and that’s it, Yugi’s a goner. He slams home one more time, so hard the wall creaks, and he comes deep inside Atem, so much he feels dizzy with it by the time he sits back on his heels.

Freed from the vice of Yugi’s body and the wall, Atem slithers down and forward, knocking Yugi onto his back. “Gfffhngmnguh,” he says intelligently.

“Uh,” Yugi grunts in reply, patting Atem vaguely on the - he looks down - on the hip.

A few minutes later, Atem says, “You - weren’t able to do that before. With your thighs.”

“I almost beat Joey running up that one big hill on my running route today,” Yugi brags. Atem hums vague congratulations, but the way his dick twitches suggests he’s more impressed than he’s letting on. “Do you like that, other me?”

Atem’s face heats against Yugi’s chest. “I - ah - yes. I find your thighs rather compelling, it seems.”

“Note to self: invest in booty shorts for running once it gets hotter out.” Atem whimpers.  

* * *

Atem thought Yugi said it in jest, to tease him. So he is blindsided one weekend as spring is turning into summer, when Yugi comes home from a long midmorning run in a tiny pair of loose drawstring shorts and a singlet that is more empty loops than fabric - and tosses the sweat-soaked singlet aside the instant he gets in the door.

“Whew! It’s humid out there,” he says, heading straight for the fridge where he stashed a large water bottle before he left.

Atem stares, his tablet sliding forgotten from his hands to the counter. His mouth is hanging open. He may or may not be drooling; he can’t spare the attention to tell, so fixated is he on the vision guzzling water in his kitchen.

Sweat gleams on every plane of Yugi’s body, throwing the dips between his muscles into sharp relief. His thighs are thick, his buttocks round; the gods themselves could not sculpt a back or arms so exquisite. Between the deep vee of his hipbones (the shorts hanging on for dear life to his slim hips, as Atem is hanging onto his sanity), his individual abdominal muscles can be seen moving beneath his skin as he drinks.

At last he releases the bottle from his lips and upends it over his head, sighing deeply as the dregs splash into his bound hair and trickle down over his torso. He looks over at Atem, speckled with droplets, smelling of clean sweat even from the other end of the kitchen, vigor bursting from every inch of his chiseled frame - and yet his face is still _Yugi,_ bright with warm curiosity, his essential innocent playfulness that Atem fell in love with immediately upon first contact. “Are you feeling okay, other me?”

 _Mine eyes have seen the glory of the gods,_ Atem thinks crazily - which is true, actually, but the gods can’t hold a candle to the sight of his love in full bloom like this. He finds he is propping his face on his steepled fingers, like he is either praying for strength or thinking furiously of how to survive the onslaught of Yugi’s devastating attractiveness. Either way he comes up with nothing, and what he manages to gasp out is, “Let me lick your stomach!”

“Uh, what?”

Atem’s face burns, and he gives up speaking as a bad job. He crosses the kitchen and drops to his knees, steadying himself by splaying his fingers on Yugi’s thick thighs, and swipes his tongue up the taut, rippling plane of Yugi’s abdomen. The salt on his tongue punches Atem’s breath from him, and when he inhales again Yugi’s sweat intensifies the scent of his skin until he has to rub his face in it - it heaves slightly against his cheek with Yugi’s confused breaths, not quite laughing as Atem touches him too firmly to tickle. Atem licks him again, up the other side of his abs and then down in the groove of his hip, and moans involuntarily. He sounds almost anguished to his own ears.

Yugi slides his fingers into Atem’s hair. “Other me, what’s gotten into you?”

Atem looks up at him, lets him see how desperately aroused he is. “I need to suck you _right now.”_

Yugi’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Really? But I’m all stinky and-” Atem’s groan cuts him off. He tugs open Yugi’s drawstring with trembling fingers and takes his cock out - already thickening, definitely interested in the proceedings even if Yugi is somewhat blindsided. Atem lavishes it with the same licks he gave Yugi’s stomach until it firms up a little more, then slurps it into his mouth with a hum of relief, huffing the pungent smell of Yugi like an intoxicant. He cradles the plumping flesh on his tongue and strokes Yugi’s thighs and ass, feeling the hardness of his muscles, the strength and sturdiness of him. Atem has always kept up his own brand of wiry, dextrous strength as a way of life, but Yugi’s new solidity makes him feel weak with desire.

Yugi, ever adaptable, overcomes his surprise in short order and relaxes subtly into Atem’s hold, his hips starting to rock as Atem sucks him, his trademark litany of praise welling up as his arousal catches up with Atem’s. “Oh, fuck, Atem, that’s so good, wow, uhn! You’re - you’re really guh-going for it, huh? Mmnh, your mouth feels so nice, so hot, you’re so hot like this, fuck, I can’t - mm. Gimme a finger, stick it in me, if you’re gonna be dirty go all the way.” Atem wets a finger without breaking his rhythm of sliding Yugi’s cock in and out of his mouth, and then wriggles it into the damp crease of Yugi’s ass and the tight heat of his hole, so often neglected as Yugi gives so generously to meet Atem’s needs. Even in this he’s giving, really, letting Atem glut himself on the sensual delights of his body. “Oohh, fuck yeah, that feels so fucking good, wow. You’re gonna make me come like this, Atem, right here in our kitchen in broad daylight, fuckin’ shorts around my ankles and sweating like a pig. Oh shit, it’s happening, fuck, I - ooohhgod Atem, I’m - I’m coming, I - aahhh!” Atem takes the first spurts on his tongue and then backs off so the rest of Yugi’s come stripes his face and chest. He looks up at Yugi - looking down at him, as red-faced and open-mouthed as Atem was before he pounced - and snakes his tongue out to lick up some come from his own cheek. Yugi’s cock jerks and another blurt of come oozes out.

“So,” Yugi says at last, “the gym-bro look really does it for you, huh.”

“When it’s you,” Atem rasps, pushing his palm hard into his own crotch to relieve the throbbing there. Yugi’s gaze is drawn to his hand.

“Wanna see a little more in the shower?” he asks with a wink. “I could ride you until you can’t walk, maybe?”

“I don’t know if I can walk _now,”_ Atem mutters.

Yugi’s grin widens. “Not a problem. Watch this.” He bends down gracefully, takes a firm grip on Atem, and hoists him onto his shoulders with no more apparent effort than a sack of grain, standing up smoothly with nary a grunt.

“Yugi!” Atem gasps, “partner, you- uhhhhh!” To his absolute mortification he goes rigid, and shudders, and comes in his pants. “I- I’m sorry, it seems that riding will have to wait.”

Yugi chuckles, not even breaking stride. “Also not a problem. You can use your long sexy fingers until you’re ready for round two - or just let me soap you all over until _I’m_ ready.” His voice turns thoughtful. “Do you think you’d like to see me all over bubbles?”

Atem groans pitifully at this last image - and at the precise way Yugi steers through the bathroom door with Atem still slung over his shoulders. He might not survive Yugi’s new hobby, but he can’t bring himself to mind.


End file.
